Maybe Relena Should Just Not Throw Parties
by at-kb
Summary: It's AC 200 and Relena's throwing a Halloween costume party for the gang. Only problem is, someone's plotting to kidnap some of the attendees on the way. Humor, crack, 3x4. T for humorous violence.


The problem, really, was that all of them were so competitive, thought Quatre, examining his costume in front of the bathroom mirror. But that was just part of the fun of going to a party full of retired terrorists and resistance fighters. All that old energy and imagination just got directed into . . . different channels.

"How's the book?" he called out to Trowa in the adjacent bedroom. Introducing Trowa to literature, given that his education had largely missed out that aspect, had been a recent project of Quatre's. So far, _The Importance of Being Earnest_ and John Le Carre had been big successes. As always, Trowa was a bit of a mystery.

This time, it was Hemingway, which Quatre had thought was likely to strike a chord, but he wasn't getting feelings of enjoyment from the bedroom.

"I'm glad none of us was injured like that," came the reply after a few moments of reflection.

"Me too," Quatre said vehemently.

"And I don't like the bullfighting parts."

"Oh, I forgot about those. It seems very cruel, doesn't it?"

Quatre was almost certain Trowa had nodded at that, although he couldn't see it. He adjusted a few minor details one last time and went into the bedroom. "What do you think?"

Trowa's eyebrows made a brief visit to his hairline. "You'll win," he said, putting the book down.

Quatre took Trowa's hand.

A few times a year, every year since the Eve Wars, Relena had taken to throwing them, well, "reunion parties," as she called them. Quatre suspected that they were really for Heero's benefit, which he thought was kind though possibly lacking understanding on Relena's part; although she didn't really know them all that well, she'd felt Heero ought to keep in touch with all his "friends" from the war rather than lurk all year round in the shadows as her bodyguard - or, even worse, wander away and vanish completely.

So, with very Relena flair, the invitations had gone out to everyone in Preventers and the civilian world who'd touched the pilots' lives: the Gundam pilots themselves, Sally Po, Miss Noin (and Zechs, who usually made excuses not to come), Duo's girlfriend Hilde, and, of course, Dorothy Catalonia. It had started off awkward - most of the attendees were uncomfortable in the gilded antique chairs that furnished Relena's estates and the overly large room with overly large bowls of flowers in which the party was held.

But, over the past five years, and the contact most of them had ended up having with one another through Preventers or conferences or odd coincidences, they'd grown more comfortable with one another. Duo and Dorothy had both taken a hand in showing Relena how to throw parties that were actually fun, Heero and Wufei had relaxed slightly, and they'd all passed the legal age for drinking, which was possibly the most important thing, especially in Quatre's mind.

And that was how the Halloween costume contest had come around. At first, only a few of them had really gotten into it. While Trowa showed surprising, or not-so-surprising-if-you-thought-about-it, creativity in that field, Heero had shown up several times in his "chauffeur" costume or "janitor" costume and left Relena concerned that somewhere there was a person unconscious in a hallway in only his underwear. However, recently Heero had really gotten the hang of the thing, and the competition had heated up a bit.

Quatre was determined to win the "Best Costume" prize this year, and he was certain this costume would nail it. It looked great, it was something none of them had done before, and certain parts of it were a technical triumph. It would blow them away.

"I'm really impressed with the shoes," Quatre said, slipping one off to show Trowa. "It's actually a very complex alloy - I've been working on it for a month now. It's very heavy, but almost transparent, and flexible enough to be quite comfortable."

"What's the percentage of Gundamium?" Trowa asked, examining the shoe carefully.

It was at these times that Quatre loved Trowa best.

* * *

><p>There were really no indicators that the night was going to turn into such a fiasco. Quatre and Trowa left the hotel, got into their limo, and started out for Relena's mansion while maintaining a friendly argument about the adaptation of MS balance mechanisms for space flight. They'd been so engaged in the discussion - and, well, perhaps a bit softened by years of peace - that Trowa barely had time to turn suddenly toward the window before it shattered and Quatre felt a dart lodge itself in his neck.<p>

"That was supposed to be bulletproof!" he heard himself complaining mildly as he slipped into unconsciousness, vaguely aware that Trowa had passed out beside him.

Quatre awoke to the unpleasant scenario of what seemed to be a makeshift jail cell in a basement. Frustratingly, his costume had taken a bit of damage from rough treatment and a less-than-clean floor, and he was tied to a chair. Luckily, he could sense Trowa a few rooms away emanating his ever-present mood of patience, although a little frustration was mixed in there, too. Quatre knew Trowa looked forward to the reunions, as they all did.

"You might as well give up any thoughts of rescue," some kind of sweaty man was snarling at Quatre from another chair facing him. "We have him."

"Who?" Quatre asked politely.

Standard megalomaniacal laugh. Quatre had heard better. "The famous Heero Yuy, of course!"

Quatre was tempted to say that Heero Yuy being in a state of imprisonment was usually followed very shortly by Heero Yuy not being in a state of imprisonment and also causing things to explode, but paused upon noticing that he didn't sense Heero within the house or anywhere near. Even unconscious, Heero's emotions would have been noticeable to Quatre. "I don't think you do," Quatre said.

The man laughed in an indulgent kind of way. "Still so naive?" he said. He turned and shouted to the guards behind him. "Bring him in!"

But rather than sensing Heero approaching, Quatre felt _Trowa_ being brought toward the room. Had they really mistaken Trowa for Heero? Obviously they had, as Trowa was shoved, crudely handcuffed, into the room.

"You see now, princess?" the apparent leader of their imprisoners said. "We have your bodyguard. You are at our mercy."

And all of a sudden, Quatre caught on Trowa's face what only he would recognize at Trowa trying not to laugh, and it hit him. No, it couldn't be, could it?

"Our terms are simple," the ringleader was continuing. "You publicly resign your rights to the Peacecraft throne through our pan-channel broadcast hack, and we let you live."

It could.

Quatre put his face in his hands, but he couldn't hide his shoulders shaking. Not everyone had Trowa's poker face, after all.

"No need to weep, Princess Relena-"

Of course Trowa picked that moment to do a triple back flip out of his captors' hands and across the room, and then Quatre pinned one of the guards to the wall using Gundanium-alloy-stiletto-heels and knocked a second out with his tiara, and then things got a little hazy.

"Darn it!" Quatre panted as they raced through the corridors of the kidnappers' complex.

"Hm?" said Trowa, glancing at his companion.

"I just realized I" - he dodged a rain of bullets - "forgot to patent that alloy! Remind me to call my lawyer."

It all ended with a somewhat dramatic leap through the glass of a third-storey window, with Quatre in Trowa's arms as, of course, he'd lost his shoes earlier and it would be foolish to leap barefoot onto a surface covered with shattered glass.

It was just a little unfortunate that the paparazzi had apparently found out where the "princess" was being held captive and staked out the area in preparation.

Quatre took Trowa's lab coat, which his companion had quickly shrugged off, and draped it over his head for privacy, leaving only the ends of his very expensive and extremely high-end blonde wig to peek out.

"Princess Relena! How do you feel? Frightened, relieved?"

"Vice-Foreign Minister! Who designed your dress?"

"Queen Relena! Are you hurt?"

"Wait, that's not Heero Yuy-"

"That's not Heero Yuy!"

"Princess! Did Heero Yuy break your heart?"

Quatre spotted a gold limo with tinted windows at the other edge of the throng and pushed through determinedly, leaving Trowa to fend for himself on topics such as whether he, Relena and Heero were in a love triangle. He opened the door and slipped in.

"I think this is my favorite of all my kidnappings," Relena said, laughing.

Duo rolled his eyes. "You'd think people would at least look at a few pictures of her before trying to kidnap her."

"It's sloppy," Wufei agreed with disdain from the front of the car.

"Apparently they'd found out that Relena Peacecraft was driving with me from a Hilton to her party at her estate tonight," explained Heero. "But they picked the wrong Hilton, therefore the wrong limo."

"Oh well," said Quatre, trying to adjust his wig by feel. "It's not too late to start the party, is it?"

"Nice attempt, Winner," said Dorothy, turning around from the driver's seat. "But, once again, the touch is mine."

Quatre's mouth fell open.

"Wow," said Trowa, getting in the car. "You look exactly like Treize."

It certainly went a way to explaining why Wufei was riding shotgun.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Let me know what you think!


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